Just a Bit of Fun
by Wonk
Summary: [Complete} Supposed amnesia, conspiracy, and a practical joke gone wrong. Since what does everyone start believing Ron? Why did he disappear? And why is Snape being so oddly helpful? One-shot. Hint of SSHG


Summary: Supposed amnesia, conspiracy, and a practical joke gone wrong. Since what does everyone start believing Ron? And why did he disappear? One-shot. Based on actual events. SS/HG (though whether it's a friendship or romantic relationship is up for interpretation)

PG for language and mischief.

Warning: a lot of Ron-bashing ahead, but it's all in good fun.

**Just a Bit of Fun**

"We're bloody geniuses," observed Ron Weasley, holding the gauze bandages as if they were a precious jewel. A little jolt of the train track rocked the famous three slightly, but it didn't bother them at all. Ron, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger were all leaning together, whispering secretly to each other. Not even the beautiful spring weather that announced the end of Easter holidays could distract them. They had managed to find a compartment to themselves, and Hermione's glare and the Head Girl badge pinned to her shirt had managed to keep other people away. She was supposed to be in the Prefect car, but honestly, the twats could manage themselves.

"No, _I'm_ the bloody genius, Ron," Hermione said, ever her modest self. "You and Harry just thought it was a good idea." 

"Well it is," said Harry, leaning back in his seat with a smirk. "Honestly, everyone needs to lighten up a bit. Voldemort's dead, we're alive. It's time to have some fun."

"I wish Fred and George were here to see this," Ron sighed, throwing the bandages to Harry. He caught them and threw them back.

"We can always write to them," Hermione said, grabbing the bandages as they flew past her, coming dangerously close to hitting her in the forehead. "And pictures…we must take lots of pictures."

"Percy, too. Percy's gonna hate me for this…" He smiled proudly. "So who are we wrapping up?" asked Ron, trying to grab the gauze out of Hermione's hand and failing, his freckled face reddening. Frustrated, he said, "How about Hermione? Then we can say that besides having amnesia, she's also gone stupid."

"No!" Hermione objected, holding the bandages out of reach. "And I don't think that people would go to look for me, either. I'm not exactly the most popular girl in school, if you haven't noticed."

Ron just shrugged, not daring to agree, and looked to Harry. "What about you, Harry? Everyone loves you."

"I think everyone's getting a bit sick of me, to tell the truth," he replied. "If you haven't noticed, my face has been plastered across every newspaper and magazine since I killed him. I'm starting to even get sick of myself. I wouldn't be surprised if they left me in the woods for dead."

Hermione looked at Ron complacently, the corner of her mouth upturning. "That leaves you, Ron."

"Oh, no…what about Ginny? Ginny can do it."

"Ginny's already been the one to disappear, remember? And frankly, Ron," said Hermione. "You'd do a really good job at convincing people that you hit your head and have become forgetful. You're already a bit slow to start off with-"

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true," Harry interjected with an apologetic smile. "All you have to do is say that you ran into a tree when you were playing Quidditch, and your memory's not working quite right. Just forget a few names every so often, don't turn your homework in-"

"That shouldn't be a problem," Hermione interrupted, somewhat disapprovingly. 

"And not pay attention when people are talking," Harry finished. 

"What are the bandages for?" Ron asked, still eyeing them greedily and pretending to sound suspicious. Hermione had a feeling that he didn't care what they were for, as long as he got to wear them.

"They're just for show," she said. "We can say you have a nasty cut on your forehead that your mum couldn't get rid of, and you don't want to get it infected."

"Who's going to believe that?"

"Honestly," Hermione replied smugly. "Everyone's in such a state right now that they've all turned in to a bunch of Hufflepuffs. They'll believe anything."

"I hope you're right, Hermione," Harry said. He never was one to really care about the rules, but he understood the position that Hermione was putting herself in. She was Head Girl, and if she was caught encouraging…well, mischief, that could put her position in grave danger. However, he couldn't blame her for wanting one last hurrah before the end of their years at Hogwarts. "Because if we get caught…"

"Don't worry about it, Harry," she said. "It's just a harmless joke, we're hardly even breaking any rules."

"Hardly," Ron muttered gloomily. 

"Since when did you two turn into cowards?" she huffed. "I seem to remember the days when you were dragging me around, making me do things illegal."

"I'm not a coward," Ron harrumphed. "I'm just afraid of my mum."

"Understandably," Harry answered with a serious nod of his head.

"Grow up. Come on, it will be fun. It's not like we're doing any physical damage."

She eyed both of them, wondering when they had taken on a sudden change of heart. With a sigh, Ron reached out and took the bandages from her hand, sighing. Harry smiled.

"All right," Ron said at last. "I'm in. Now help me wrap these things around my head, will you? I can never get them straight."

§

"Oh, poor dear," a fourth year Ravenclaw said at lunch the next day, skittering back toward her table, red-faced, when Ron turned around to see who had said it.

"Figures," muttered Harry bitterly. "I kill the Dark Lord and I don't get so much as a kiss, and Ron supposedly runs into a bloody tree and has women drooling all over him."

"This is no time to get jealous, Harry," Hermione whispered to him, watching as two girls from Hufflepuff craned their necks to get a look at their "injured" friend, collapsing into giggles when the three saw them. "At least it's working. And he's doing a _fantastic_ job of acting stupid."

"I don't really think it's acting," Harry replied darkly, earning an amused smack on the arm from his friend.

"Um…" Ron said, eyeing the saltshaker on the other side of the table that sat next to Seamus Finnigan's plate. "Hey…um, you. Could you pass the salt?"

Seamus, unaware that Ron was addressing him, ignored him and focused intently on his mashed potatoes. 

"You!" Ron said again, flicking a fork so that it landed right in the center of Seamus's plate. That finally got his attention and the boy looked up, plainly irritated. "I asked if you could pass me the salt."

"Oh…right," Seamus said uneasily, pushing the saltshaker over to him. Ron took it with a muttered thanks while Seamus went back, frowning, to contemplating his lunch.

"When is this going to end?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper. "It was funny at first, but now I'm just starting to get irritated. Sometimes he gets so caught up in it he pretends to forget my name."

"Tomorrow night," Hermione breathed into his ear. "And it will all be worth it."

Harry wasn't so sure, and left in a huff as a small crowd of Hufflepuff girls appeared at Ron's seat, asking if there was anything they could do to help him in his time of need. 

§

Hermione dusted her hands and smiled proudly, looking at the trees as if she was admiring her handiwork, even though she hadn't done anything, really. On the contrary, she had just sent Ron to wander into the forest (Hagrid would be ashamed), armed with his wand, of course, and told him to find a comfortable spot to relax. 

The moon was shining brightly, not a full moon, fortunately, and the stars twinkled merrily from the heavens. It was a perfect night for Weasley-hunting.

Ron's injury and amnesia had stirred up enough sympathy to warrant a reaction from most of the school. It was all going as planned, and Hermione couldn't be prouder. Harry was a bit disgusted, but that was to be expected. 

This would be a masterpiece.

"What time is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, gazing admiringly at the moon.

"Twelve-fifteen," he answered, glancing blearily at his watch. 

"Marauder's map hidden securely in your trunk where no one can find it except you?"

"Yup."

A wicked smile stretched across Hermione's face. "Perfect."

§

Everyone was milling anxiously around the entrance hall in their nightclothes and slippers, rubbing their weary eyes and muttering among themselves, wondering what was going on. Dumbledore was walking around, trying to keep everyone calm, though he looked frazzled himself, while trying to satisfy Professor Snape who was just teeming with questions. 

"What's going on, Headmaster?" Snape sniffed, somewhat nervously, looking at the heads bobbing about the crowded hall. "Has something happened?"

"Well, that's the problem," Dumbledore said, gazing about, seeming somewhat distracted. "I'm not quite sure. It seems as though Ron Weasley has…disappeared, though I can't for the life of me figure why."

Snape looked plainly irritated and glowered at the students from under lowered eyebrows. A first year caught a sight of him and squeaked, diving into the crowd. "You don't suppose this would have to do with his…what did he call it…amnesia, do you?"

"It's quite possible. I'm just trying to make my way over to Miss Granger, who seems to be unusually focused. One would think that she'd be a nervous wreck, with her boyfriend missing and all…ah, Miss Granger! There you are."

Hermione had worked her way to him through the crowd, chewing her lip and running her fingers through her bushy hair, which seemed unusually behaved for having just been asleep. Snape could plainly see that there was no worry or fear in her eyes. 

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the first irrelevant thing she said was, "He's not my boyfriend."

"Well, of course not," Dumbledore answered in his patronizing tone, which quickly shifted over into his typical, forceful business manner. "You wouldn't happen to know where he's gone, would you?"

"Well…" Hermione eyed the door nervously, where Harry, along with a half-asleep Neville Longbottom and a groggy yet worried Ginny Weasley were trying to keep people in line. "He went down to feed Fang earlier, with Hagrid being gone on extended holiday and all, and I'm afraid…well…" Her eyes filled with tears, and Snape couldn't help but roll his eyes. The girl was a horrible actress, but Dumbledore was lapping it up with pleasure. "I'm afraid that he might have lost his way and wandered into the forest."

There was a collective gasp around them and the murmur heightened to a dull roar as the hint of Ron's whereabouts spread like wildfire through the crowd. A few young girls let out wails, while people of various genders, ages, and sizes voiced their worries over the creatures that wandered the forest at night.

"Who cares about Weasley?" Draco Malfoy said loudly, trying to make his voice heard over the crowd. Hermione could hear his voice crack - he was just as nervous as everyone else was. "He could get gouged by a unicorn for all I care."

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore called back to the blond boy, who promptly rolled his eyes and sank back into the crowd. "What do you suggest we do, Severus?" Dumbledore murmured back to the Potion's Master, who looked as though his feelings concerning this event mirrored much of what the young Malfoy had said, without the hidden sentiment.

"Well…" Snape answered, contemplating his words. "The forest is too large for just the staff to go searching for him. I think that if we sent the students, in groups, it would be quite safe and we could find him much faster."

"Excellent idea, my boy." Dumbledore left him and pushed through the crowd of children to the stairs, climbing a few steps to place himself above the rest of the heads. "Attention, attention please!" As everyone usually did when Dumbledore started speaking, they automatically became very quiet and all turned to look at their Headmaster, eyes alight with curiosity. "Professor Snape has made the suggestion that instead of just the staff members looking for the ill Mr. Weasley, it would be much more affective if we sent the students."

There was an uproar. Apparently everyone was concerned, but not concerned enough to go looking for him.

"I suggest that you all split in to groups, and to make this easy, split in to your years, by house. That should make…what, twenty-eight groups? Yes, that's right. Very good." He cleared his throat and blinked sleepily. "Well, I suppose that is all. And be very careful with Mr. Weasley when you find him, amnesiacs have a tendency to act rather…odd. Oh, and don't go in too deep, because you'll only get yourself in an even stickier mess. Good luck, now."

With that, he stepped down from his makeshift podium and was swallowed in a group of irritated Slytherin sixth years. Grumbling complaints shifted through the people and Hermione and Harry opened the front door, stepping outside and watching the entire student body of Hogwarts stream out onto the lawn. When it had emptied besides Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil, they all stared at each other while Lavender whispered loudly that she had had a premonition that something bad would happen to Ron. They all ignored her, except for Parvati.

"Well, with all these people, it shouldn't be too hard," Hermione said, a bit too chipper. "And I bet that Dumbledore will allow house points to the first team that finds him."

"What's the use of finding him if he's already dead?" Parvati said gloomily, reflecting her whole-hearted belief of the mumbo-jumbo that was Lavender's Seeing ability. 

Seamus rolled his eyes, beginning to lead everyone else out on to the lawn. 

"He's not dead, he's just stupid. There is a difference," he had said with a sigh, moving toward the forest. The moon and the stars lit the way, casting silver light and dark shadows across their path. Dean whined when he stepped in a hole. 

Most of the other groups had already submersed themselves in the woods, leaving a few girls, too afraid to step foot inside where there were spiders and centaurs, on the edge, conversing with each other and looking sheepish. They had hardly set foot in the foliage when they heard muted yells and hollers from further inside, proclaiming that they had found Ron Weasley. Everyone went back to the edge of the Forest, waiting impatiently for the group's arrival.

And arrive, they did, with a baffled-looking Ron levitating in the air before them, a shallow cut from a tree twig cut below his right eye. He looked confused and a bit beat-up. It was a group of Ravenclaw third years, and it looked as though the girls had been crying.

"He said…" a redheaded girl sniffled. All the other students were gathering around them, breathing a collective sigh of relief. "He said it was all a joke. He said he just thought it would be fun."

"He lied to us!" the other girl sobbed.

Disapproval crashed through the crowd like a wave. No one looked more disappointed than Dumbledore, who seemed rather upset that his favorite students had lied to him.

"Look," he said once everyone had quieted down. "Everyone is to go back to their dorms and fall asleep. If I hear that any of you are out of your beds, I will personally punish you. And…" he added when a loud sniffle penetrated his train of thought. "If anyone is in need of therapy or counseling, I will open up a few staff offices tomorrow morning during breakfast and tomorrow afternoon during lunch for that reason. Good night, all, and be assured that these…pranksters will be rightly punished."

He watched as the student body retreated to their rooms. All that was left was Hermione, Harry, and Ron, with a rather happy-looking Professor Snape and the Headmaster himself standing near the forest in a tense silence.

"Idiot," Hermione muttered. "You weren't supposed to _tell them the truth_."

"Well, it was your idea," Ron shot back, crossing his arms across his chest as Dumbledore set him back on the ground. "I just played along. Isn't that right, Harry? Hermione pressured us both into this."

"Erm…"

"This is no place to discuss this," Dumbledore said, hugging his robes to his frail body as he turned and started to head back up to the castle. "Let us go back to the school, where it is warmer."

When they had reached the entrance hall, Harry was dismissed for obvious lack of participation and Ron and Hermione were left alone to Dumbledore and Snape's clutches. Dumbledore questioned them, mostly Hermione, from the first stair while Snape leaned against the broom closet, looking as though his first year classes had just been canceled.

"It is true, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked her. "That you truly pulled off such a devastating prank, and after all that has happened in the past months?"

Hermione swallowed convulsively, moving a hand to her chest to protect the Head Girl badge like she was afraid that it might dissolve. "Yes, sir. I thought people would appreciate it more. I wasn't expecting that it would…backfire."

Dumbledore let out a tired sigh. "Well, I can't say that I'm disappointed in your lack of sensitivity to current events. I thought that you would have used your head before. We are in a very trying time right now, and-" 

"If I may interrupt, Headmaster," Snape cut in, stepping forward from the closet. "I believe that she and Weasley both are quite aware of their stupidity at the moment. I am only wondering what you may do to punish them."

"Well, I was thinking-"

"Oh, no," Snape interrupted again, his eyes narrowing as he gazed upon the two prisoners with something just short of hunger. "Please allow me to distribute it. I would be more than grateful."

Dumbledore eyed Snape suspiciously but, with a tired sigh, gave in. "Very well. But…Severus?" He placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Just…don't be too hard on them." 

The Headmaster left, hobbling up the stairs with a yawn to escape to his quarters, leaving Ron and Hermione alone with the sadistic Potions Master.

"Well," Snape sighed, looking as though he had suddenly become very tired himself. "I believe fifty points from Gryffindor is in order."

"But-" Ron began.

"Each. And Miss Granger, I believe a week's worth of detention will be quite appropriate. Don't you think so?"

She glared sulkily at the ground. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Mr. Weasley, you are dismissed." He waved his hand at Ron, who looked reluctant to leave his friend behind. "I will send Miss Granger up soon, unharmed," Snape assured him, which finally made the boy leave.

When the redhead had disappeared, Snape smirked at her, his eyes immediately lightening. 

"Well done, Miss Granger," he said, his tone warm. "Even if it did, as you said, "backfire". Personally, I think sending a few first year Hufflepuffs to therapy is always a very nice result."

"Thank you, sir," she said with a secretive smile all of her own. "I learned from the best."

"Of course you did," he answered, leaning back against the staircase and fixing her with a steady, amused gaze. "Though the bandages were a nice touch."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, fighting back a yawn. "I'm going to bed, I'm rather tired. What books should I bring to detention?" 

"Whatever you want," he said dismissively. "As long as it's interesting."

"All right," she answered, circling him and beginning to ascend the stairs. "Good night, Professor."

"Good night, Hermione," he said, beginning to walk toward the door that led to the dungeons. He had almost passed through it when he turned back around, causing her to halt just as she was about to pass into invisibility. "Oh, and Hermione."

"Yes, sir?" she said, curiosity worming into her voice. An eyebrow was lifted from behind a mass of curly hair as she waited for him to continue.

"One hundred and twenty points to Gryffindor," he said quietly, the smirk still plain across his face. "For making Draco Malfoy cry."

**FIN**

A/N: This is based very closely on an actual event (besides the relationship between Snape and Hermione, of course), which had the opposite affect of what they had planned. Practical jokes sometimes seem to work that way. 

Thank you for your reviews. 


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